“Chore list increased as Easter drew nearer” from the April 15, 1976 Door County Advocate
Chore list increased as Easter drew nearer
By GRACE SAMUELSON
Way back when I was growing up we made a big thing of April Fool’s day. Jokes ranged from the “Oh, look at that robin out in the Yard” type to the ardent practical jokers. But often, as happened this year, Mother Nature did the fooling, bringing a snowfall reminiscent of winter. But the crocuses and daffodils usually survived, and the other signs of spring were soon evident. Tree buds swelling, birds building nests, yards to rake and trash to burn. And over and above everything, spring housecleaning.
Remember the curtain stretchers out on ’most every front porch? And the heavy poles hung to support the parlor carpet while we took turns hanging and beating them free of winter’s dust with the old handy-dandy carpet beater?
Such a flurry to have the housecleaning all done by Easter; walls washed, windows gleaming, out-buildings whitewashed, some rooms calcimined, or redone by the paperhanger. Women in dust caps and long gingham aprons giving an ammonia shine to windows, pictures and mirrors. Gardens spaded as soon as the soil was right, and on Good Friday be sure to plant garden peas and sweet peas.
Coming in from school most any day of the week to help carry in the clean bedspreads, mattress pads and comforter covers from the line; the sweet-sickish smell of yellow soap and steam still permeating the kitchen. Ironing the bleached flour sacks and sugar sacks so they could be made into dishtowels, garter waists, or underskirts. Running the old sad-irons over a cake of beeswax so they would glide over the material. Good way for girls to learn to iron. Starched things and linen tablecloths would come later.
We were also taught the proper way to do dishes—the yellow soap at hand for the suds; extra dishpan for the rinse water. Glasses, silver, dishes, pans. No chore girls or steel wool pads; fingernails were made for scraping the stuck-on food from the pans. (We used every excuse possible to soak the kettles till the next meal (providing it wasn’t our turn to wash them next meal). The enameled kettles would chip, so we had to be careful how we scraped them.
In Home Ec. class we were taught to use a wood-handled knife to scrape pumice from a brick to use for scouring. We didn’t use dish cloths; they were dish rags, and in summer time we threw the soapy dishwater out on the garden to help kill any bugs on the plants. Soft water—cistern water—for washing; pump water heated to boiling for the rinse. Our cistern was up over the kitchen; some folds still had rain barrels.
Soda was put to a lot of use besides as a leavening agent. Mama always called it saleratus. They included cards of various American birds in the box, and we treasured our collections. We watched Mama sharpen her knife on the edge of the stone jar or crock and when we got old enough it was our chore to wash and shine the lamp chimneys and trim the wicks so the lamps burned evenly and didn’t smudge.
All those duties didn’t improve the looks of our fingernails, but then no one had heard of nail polish. Nail files came into use, and we trimmed our nails with fingernail scissors, cleaned under the nails and pushed down the cuticle with orange wood sticks, then buffed them to a shine with a chamois-covered buffer.
Good grooming included wiping off our patent leather slippers with vaseline. Mama made our shampoo with 5 cents worth of Ivory soap, 5 cents worth of salts of tartar dissolved in 3 quarts of hot rain water. It was like a jelly, and when we used it we had an excuse to say “I just washed my hair and I can’t do a thing with it.”
If you were a brunette you rinsed your hair in a vinegar solution; if blond, in lemon juice. Sometimes we’d put our hair up on rags to curl it specially for school or church programs. Mama said that her mother used to put her hair up on curlers made of tea lead—the heavy lead foil that tea came in. Some folks had kid curlers which they wore at night, or under a “dust cap” at home, much like the women we see in rollers at the supermarket.
One of the sure spring signs was the dandelions that cropped up everywhere. We were set to digging the plants—the grown ups mostly liked the tonic effect when they used them for salad. We’d try out a blossom under a friend’s chin to “see if you like butter” and when the stems of the flowers were long enough we’d make dandelion chains and weave crowns of the blossoms to wear as queens. We must have been very much impressed with the Astors and the Vanderbilts as we often pretended that’s who we were when we dressed up in long clothes.
April often found us interrupting our play to pull up green onions or hunt for asparagus—“sparrow-grass” some folks called it. Rhubarb, too, would be showing its red stems, and the first rhubarb pie was such a treat.
April brought the anniversary of Paul Revere’s ride and we memorized at least part of the poem. We did a lot of memorizing and usually recited pieces and “memory gems” for our Friday afternoon “Literary Society.”
Easter generally came in April, and what a flurry to get ready for that! Could you have a “new” (hand-me-down) spring coat this year? And would the braided straw hat look all right if we put on a new ribbon and a bunch of daisies or cherries? White embroidered dresses, white stockings and black patent leather slippers made us feel real “dressed up.” It was usually too cold, rainy, or snowy for light clothes, but, we’d wear winter wraps to sunrise service, then a sweater under the light coat at the later one.
We were allowed to help the Easter Bunny color the eggs but we had to hunt for our baskets next morning, tickled when we got a chocolate rabbit and some jelly beans along with the other. We usually had ham at Easter, boiled, then skinned, glazed, and baked. And bunnies made of marshmallows graced our lemon-jell cake. Everyone took a walk down town after dinner to show off Easter finery. Then we’d come home and play “Ring around the Rosy” or “Drop the Handkerchief.” Very exciting. Or we could always play “Finch.”
If we were having an early spring we got permission to walk out to the woods to hunt for arbutus, that elusive, fragrant, delicate pink and white blossom hiding under the dead leaves, its long runners like strawberry plants. We’d gather the lovely cup-shaped blossoms very carefully, being sure not to pull up the roots, and carry home a treasured bouquet to Mama. We’d look for wintergreen berries, too, knowing of special spots to look for them.
While the house was being refurbished and our slim wardrobes brightened with buttons and bows we sort of “camped out” in blankets and with only shades at the windows till the comforter covers were tied back on the wool batts and the curtains came off the stretchers with their scallopy points where the pins had held them tight.
We’d have quickie meals—raw-fried potatoes, hamburger patties, creamed cabbage and cottage pudding with raspberry sauce. Or, ham and eggs and riced potatoes and canned peas, with raisin rice custard. We liked housecleaning meals—there were never as many dishes to do afterward. The new crop of maple syrup had come and we loved that on baking powder biscuits.
So the house was ready, our clothes were ready, and all that was left was the spiritual readiness that Easter brought to our hearts. He is risen! Rejoice!
Courtesy of the Door County Library Newspaper Archive
[The anniversary of Paul Revere’s ride is April 18.
A search for information about a game of “Finch” was unsuccessful. Samuelson may be referring to the game of “Flinch”.]
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Articles by Grace Samuelson
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